Chapter 54 Epilogue: Obsessed

When you are obsessed, you become very light.Getting lighter and lighter, feet off the ground.Yes, that feels like flying. When I was young, I used to fantasize about becoming a crazy artist in the future.Every time I see my fingers flying up and down on the piano keys, the twisting lines and manic colors, the tearful recitation, and the piles of manuscripts, I feel very excited.At that time, I didn't even know what art was.Just because of such a gesture, like a fierce wind, it blows open the sweat pores, smoothes the wrinkled mind, and turns the locked rooms into circuitous corridors.yes

Yes, before I was fascinated by a certain art, the first thing I was fascinated by was the artist's attitude formed in my mind, like Astro Boy and Nezha.Looking back, when I was a child, I was a stubborn kid with a bit of heroism and a bit of expressiveness. I liked to make a plan every month and every week during the winter and summer vacations. Post the next day's new form on time without going back. Growth is like a long-lasting fever that makes us hot, dizzy, and forget where we are going.Walking in a daze, I suddenly found that my heroism was gone, and my desire for expression melted away. It turned out that my great ideal was just a snowman, and when the time came, it would turn into a puddle of sewage.Yes, in my adolescence, it seemed that there were no big dreams.I just have a fever and sadness is like a flu.And writing may be a complication of high fever.One day I feel that the world becomes brighter and brighter, the rigid walls become open doors, all the empty containers are filled, and there is the sound of abundant water—all these things, maybe they didn’t happen at all, they just happened to me My heart is boiling.I'm fascinated by fantasies that only exist in my head or on the tip of my pen.

When I was thinking about what to say at the end of this book, three words popped into my mind: Fascinated.In the year that is about to pass, I feel my will and obsession, like a strong pulse, become evidence of "life".I wrote it this year.In it, there is the "fascination" in my memory or imagination.The fan may be a novel, the fan may be the shadow of the narcissistic narcissus falling in love, the fan may be the wish made by releasing the carp, the fan may be Jing's burning memory, the fan may be Shen He's pursuit at all costs, the fan may be Man’s heartfelt praise, fan may be Yumi’s trustful delivery... Fan is chocolate, fan is house, fan is journey, fan is promise, fan is auditory hallucinations and whispers, fan is a diary to confide in, fan is rot The cat, the obsession is running on the street at night, the obsession is the sad Kunqu opera, the obsession is the constant confession and farewell... The obsession is addiction.Fans are demons.There is a fine line between magic and magic, and the bad thing is that line is unknowable until you have crossed the line.Thus, every obsession is potentially dangerous and destructive.

Another winter.I will go back north in winter.The coldness of the north made me have a voice that I couldn't utter, which swayed back and forth in my body until it formed a cocoon-like ice.We are so easily discouraged.I asked myself, do you really need so many memories, do you have to put yourself back to the fallen circus again and again, and carefully clean the corners of the past like executing a curriculum.After reading my novel, my father bought me a doughnut when he came back from a business trip, the same one he bought me many years ago.Mickey Mouse is no longer the darling of Master Mianren, so it looks a bit outdated and embarrassed.As I wrote in the novel, Dad did take Mickey Mouse's head off during my fight.He thought I didn't remember, but I blamed him for years.I always ask for a little more pampering in the retrospective of such trifles.

But Pa said he didn't take Mickey Mouse's head off, and he wouldn't do that.Maybe, maybe that's just my fantasy.All that is not my memory.Jing is not my memory, she is a kite I made in a lonely afternoon.After the thread was snapped, she turned into a butterfly.Then it fell into the water and became my shadow.Or, she landed on the shore and became a daffodil.I don't know, but I promised to give her a good home. December 12